Capitulo 20
Chapter 20 – ༺The Guard has a lot of work to do༻.
‘Hmm.’
Adorned with her Purple Knight title, Rachel sat by the window in the moonlight, her dark violet hair cascading freely.
Once a girl who loved the daylight, she now found solace in the night, the trials and tribulations of her life etching a shadow in her heart.
» Teacher… »
This afternoon.
The sudden offer had gifted her with a sleepless night.
Rachel, her hair disheveled as well as her thoughts, pondered the predicament.
«How am I supposed to do that?»
She had never taught anyone.
Nor had she ever been formally taught.
He started with a wooden sword borrowed from his father, cutting straw targets in the fields.
She did not walk the path of righteousness, but survived through unrefined combat, using any means necessary without discrimination.
For her, Elden’s request to become a mentor was enough to keep her awake at night.
«I never thought of taking on a disciple.»
It was supposed to start tomorrow.
It was clear Elden had a lot to learn.
Sometimes frustratingly so.
However.
Explaining what he lacked or what needed to be done to make up for it was beyond him.
«Tch.»
Even recommending a weapon to Elden, who was only used to fighting, was a mystery.
The sword, his weapon of choice, didn’t seem to suit the madman Elden seemed to be.
Starting with a wooden sword, he had gone through a myriad of weapons: daggers, spears, axes, halberds, shields, bows and more.
Which of these would best suit a mindless brawler….
Unfortunately, hand-to-hand combat was not Rachel’s forte.
«Hmm…»
With a long sigh, Rachel faced her predicament.
Why the sudden desire for formal training, presenting such an inconvenient task to her guard?
Flames licked her open palm.
A small violet flame danced like a mirage, a habit of hers when she was deep in thought.
From her observations, Elden Rapellion, the madman, was likely to give up soon, unable to overcome his nature.
A life lived lightly, ignorant of the concept of effort.
He preferred debauchery to progress, indulging in ephemeral pleasures through drink and love affairs, unable to bear the pain of growing up.
A man who did not respect his own parents would hardly accept his mentor’s rebuke.
A few failures would probably cause him to abandon his efforts out of pride.
Such was Elden Rapellion’s nature.
Though lately there had been inexplicable signs of change.
Was this also part of that change?
Since he never feared it, his transformation, or lack thereof, mattered little, though it seemed to herald more trouble in the future.
The flames continued to dance.
Unable to put an end to her reverie, Rachel’s mind burned with memories of chopping straw with a wooden sword.
And then.
«Ha, what vigorous swordsmanship. But perhaps holding the hilt a little lower might serve you better.»
Her father’s kind but instructive gaze played along, making it more of a game than a lesson for a girl, though she would name him her teacher if she asked.
That moment of play was the driving force behind the birth of the Purple Knight.
Therefore, the responsibility that came with the title of «teacher» swirled in her mind, considering the slim chance that Elden would find joy and desire in growing from her teachings.
She had always given her all.
She had never shied away from any task of growth, had faced difficulties and challenges, considering them shortcuts to progress.
And now, in the comfort of success, she had slacked off.
A commendable fighter, naturally alert to threats, and not easy to beat thanks to her good combat skills.
This had made her more of a reserve guard than an active protector, leading her to slack off frequently.
Perhaps she was getting a bit careless, but it was a good opportunity to sharpen her dull edge, making her a good challenge.
Extinguishing the violet flame in her palm, Rachel turned away from the window and walked over to the mirror.
Her slender figure was accentuated by a fine white silk dress in the moonlight, and her mature curves were subtly highlighted.
Without paying much attention to the charm reflected back at her, Rachel retired to bed.
The next morning.
«Sword.»
«Axe.»
«Bow.»
«Spear.»
«Dagger.»
«Shield.»
«Halberd.»
Rachel, having visited the armory, borrowed a total of seven weapons.
Unsure of what her student might prefer, she had gathered all the types of weapons available for rent.
The clerk, puzzled, asked,
«All of these… Do you rent them all?»
«Yes. Is there a problem?»
«No… no. Write the purpose of the rental here and I’ll get them ready for you.»
Rachel, looking at the book presented by the clerk, wrote down the purpose of the rental.
[Purpose: Teacher Training]
A purpose that seemed more like a strict lesson in disguise.
Seeing her intent, the clerk couldn’t help but worry about the daunting task ahead, watching the gentlewoman walk away with her arsenal in tow.
*
Knock knock.
-Go ahead.
Arriving safely (?) at the cottage, Lendler opened the door after knocking and called out to Rachel.
«Rachel?»
«Yes.»
«Sir is waiting in boot camp six.»
«Understood.»
Rachel, after pulling her hair back into a bun, checked her appearance in the mirror.
She hated being disheveled.
Always preferring shoulder-length hair for outside activities, she made sure to tie it up in a bun for such occasions.
The gentleman’s profession demanded physical dexterity, and a split-second distraction could prove fatal.
However, her insistence on wearing her hair half-length represented the minimum femininity she retained.
Entering a male-dominated world meant sacrificing many aspects to survive, striving several times harder to overcome inherent weaknesses and become top-notch, often at the expense of femininity.
For Rachel, who had given up those aspects, the half-long bun was a form of attachment, or perhaps, lingering regret.
After fixing her hair, Rachel approached the arranged weapons.
Watching, Lendler anticipated which of the seven weapons Rachel would choose, curious about her recommendation for his protégé.
Clack.
Rachel slung the spear diagonally across her back.
Clack.
Then she strapped the halberd in the opposite diagonal direction.
Clack.
She slung the bow over her shoulder.
Clack.
An axe was secured to his left waist.
Clack.
A dagger was attached to his right waist.
Clack.
She held the round shield in her left hand.
Clack.
And finally, she grasped the sword in her right hand.
«…?»
Rachel, fully armed with all seven weapons, looked like the ultimate weapon herself.
Puzzled by the look on Lendler’s face, she asked if there was a problem.
«Ah… no. I was just wondering if you were headed for war.»
«Ah.»
Realizing the oddity at the sight of her reflection, Rachel explained that she had prepared everything, unaware of her Master’s preference.
«That’s… thorough. Be careful on your way.»
«Yes. So.»
With a slight bow, Rachel headed toward the training field where her employer awaited her.
Clank, clack, clack.
The sound of clashing weapons echoed faintly with each step.
*
Clank, clack, clack.
Amidst the noisy atmosphere, Rachel maintained silence, her journey marked by memories of traversing bloody battlefields, using broken swords as daggers, shattered spears as clubs and damaged halberds as axes.
Scattered weapons outnumbered corpses, serving as her arsenal, leading her to master all forms of weaponry.
A master of both sword and magic, Rachel was a warrior mage who enhanced her weapons with magic for battle.
Clack, clank, clack.
The people around her marveled at the walking arsenal, and their murmurs faded as she approached training ground six.
Then, it happened.
bang!
The door opened and someone stepped out of the training field.
«?»
It was her Master, Elden Rapellion, who seemed to be in a hurry for some reason.
Rachel, somewhat puzzled, called out to him.
«Sir?»
«Ah, Rachel. Let’s hurry.»
«Where to?»
Elden looked toward the training ground, smiling mischievously.
A breath of relief from someone who had successfully navigated his plans.
«Let’s skip training for today. Looks like we’d better rest.»
«Excuse me?»
Zoom.
Elden walked past, leaving Rachel staring at his retreating figure, somewhat dejected.
She had spent the night worrying about the training that was to begin today.
Worried countless times about whether she could fulfill her role as a less-than-ideal mentor.
Debating how to explain acquired skills in actual combat had left her head full of questions.
Now, postponed for a day, all her worries and dilemmas seemed pointless.
«…»
Elden, oblivious to his agitation, seemed excited about something, cheerfully making his way over.
«It’s nice weather today~»
«…»
«Rachel? Aren’t you coming?»
«…I’m on my way.»
In the end, Rachel had to follow Elden, leaving behind a sense of unfulfilled expectations.
«Oh, and from tomorrow, until the Battle of Engagement is over, stay by my side.»
«Is something wrong?»
«The unpredictable actions of villains are difficult to foresee, so it’s wise to prepare.»
…Indeed.
That was Rachel’s silent rebuke as she followed.